Epilogue

Three Years later

It was an ordinary summer’s day in Vindfort. The market was bustling with locals and travellers alike. Most were human, but a scattering of dwarves, orcs and elves wandered the stalls or tended them. Just off the market stood a grand building, and at the entrance to that building stood a most curious elf. Unlike the rest of her slender-bodied race she was improbably voluptuous - wide hips tapering through luscious thighs, pendulous breasts, soft fingers. Her body attracted many a wandering eye from the passing crowds. Her fine dress marked her as a servant, albeit of the most privileged class.

A woman approached the unusual elf who waved her inside with an exaggerated curtsey. The building, too, was remarkable, faced in exotic pink-hued stone, with a tiered roof, frescoed walls and finely carved marble columns flanking the entrance. Within, the space was lit by softly-glowing runes which clearly advertised the magical ability of the proprietor. In the centre, thousands of small beads were suspended in the air, slowly twisting through strangely curving shapes, catching the lights and scattering dancing glints over every surface.

Further servants spoke with customers in scattered clusters of chairs, their conversations rendered magically inaudible. Someone with the ability would hear all sorts of deals being discussed - mundane to singular, benign to immoral and more often than not illegal. The Office of the House of Odalon was a wondrous place for those who could afford it.

Outside, a tall, broad elf walked along the street, with chestnut-brown hair and a beaked nose. When he saw the voluptuous elf, a look of revulsion flashed across his face. Not so that a human would know, but plain enough for an elven onlooker. The look was followed shortly and just as subtly by a glimmer of confusion. What was less subtle was that the elf stopped on the street, turned, and met the eye of the elf attending the grand the building.

“Good morning sir,” she said demurely, inclining her head. “Welcome to Odalon’s House. Are you looking for a solution to a problem? The satisfaction of a desire? The realisation of a fantasy?”

He shook his head slowly. “No, ma’am, I just… thought I recognised you.”

She inclined her head politely again. “If you have no business with the Master, I must kindly ask that you move along. The privacy of the Master’s clients is paramount. Thank you!”

He still stood there, considering her, though. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

“I am sure if we had, your recollection would be more secure, sir,” she giggled. “Now, if you please?” Finally he moved off down the street, lost in contemplation.

Liandra slowly sank onto Odalon’s cock, climax just out of reach. “No, master, he didn’t recognise me. But he did suspect something.” The pleasure drew a sigh from her soft lips. “Shall I arrange for him to be taken in?” A part of her twisted in disgust at her betrayal of someone who had tried to help her so selflessly, but that part was small and withered after three years of being Odalon’s bed-slave and assistant. The collar around her neck was hidden by cunning glamour none but the most skilled and suspicious of mages could penetrate, but its control was no less evident on her will.

So it was only with slight discomfort that she suggested Toandron’s abduction and subsequent management, whatever that entailed. “No, slave, I’ll watch him but I don’t suppose that’s necessary. Now, beg if you want to come.”

She did, and she did.